


Follow the Compass North

by Warpony



Series: Feral Echoes [31]
Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen, Hinted Beauyasha, Homecoming, M/M, Spoilers c2e111, hard choices
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-02
Updated: 2020-10-02
Packaged: 2021-03-07 18:48:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,103
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26762362
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Warpony/pseuds/Warpony
Summary: For the first time he briefly entertained staying behind and it left a sick twist in his stomach and heart. It was far to dangerous to not stay with the Nein. Beau and Fjord were right, DeRogna was sending adventuring parties to her pet project excavations like they were meat grinders...
Relationships: Verin Thelyss/Original Character(s)
Series: Feral Echoes [31]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1711534
Kudos: 21





	Follow the Compass North

Leaving Rosohna... leaving Verin... had been hard. Harder than ever before. The firbolg fighter had for the first time briefly entertained staying behind and it left a sick twist in his stomach and heart. It was far to dangerous to not stay with the Nein. Beau and Fjord were right, DeRogna was sending adventuring parties to her pet project excavations like they were meat grinders. And after that _dinner party_ DeRogna was not the only Assembly member they needed to keep in their periphery. He couldn't stay behind no more than Verin or Essek could come along with them. Verin had made it easy on him. 

The Echo Knight had kindly nudged Brunnera to go, promising to busy himself with checking up on Bazzoxan and helping Essek research the Age of Arcanum sites that were possibly buried under the ash and ruin of the Wastes and hopefully find something, _anything_ about the Eyes of Nine. It felt wrong to leave after only a few spare days in the narrow week of time before they had to make way north with DeRogna. Brunnera wondered if Marion Lavorre felt this whirlwind way of visiting as the same unsettled ache Brunnera was beginning to.

Caleb was sure this was the best way to see things done. The best way to bring Ikithon down, free the Assembly and Empire of cancerous influence, perhaps even save his childhood friends. Caleb was his brother. His tribe. Brunnera would follow the mage into the fire without flinching; but it had been hard to return to Rexxentrum again. 

After so much time at sea and on Rumblecusp the fighter missed the ever night sky over Rosohna. The pale green lanterns and the swirl of music through the streets. The soft, chattering rain on the cobbled streets and the soothing chill in the air. He was not one for cities or population but Rosohna had grown on him. He was not shy about saying he missed Verin, a hollow ache that hummed ever present at the edge of his heart.

Not even Caleb gently asking him for a trinket, like he had Jester and Veth, a way to jump back to Rosohna had fully settled the unsteadiness. Brunnera didn't have much in the way of keepsakes, he'd only just started keeping things for himself once he was with the Nein, it wasn't a habit he was getting much better at. Brunnera was grateful when Caleb hadn't questioned the obsidian loop earring that was painfully obviously Verin’s was pressed into his hand. The mage had only smiled reassuringly and anchored the spell in place. 

Caleb’s venture meant more than just revenge. It meant changing everything. It meant, if done right, there would be a day that Brunnera might walk the streets of Zadash or Rexxentrum or Blumenthal or any other city in the Empire with Verin at his side without fear of assault or arrest. 

This was important. It was important to them all. It was important for the future.

So he'd go along. With a hand drawn map that led the secret way through Eiselcross to Vurmas marked out in careful Undercommon and a letter from Verin to Captain Hallwas Denalor and Norca Brighttusk verifying the Nein's identies folded and tucked into his jerkin in a secret pocket with his symbol of the Bright Queen. It was a comforting bit of weight against his heart, soothing to know that a link to Xhorhas and safety should things go awry was on hand. 

In the mean time Brunnera could just take out his frustration and unhappiness on DeRogna. She already saw him as little more than a savage, she'd made that clear. So _savage_ he would be. It was becoming a bit of a game to show his teeth and make a low animal sound at her every chance he got. He was gratified every time she jumped or shifted uncomfortably. 

All of that fell away when they reached the deep north of the Greying Wildlands. 

The fighter knew he was bred for the frigid cold. Had faded, faint memories of deep, frozen mountains and frosty alpine forests. He'd kept that in mind as they shopped for gear. Like Fjord keeping it simple with a pale leather coat lined thickly with fleece and a thick, soft woven scarf. He was curious to see if his own biology would prove itself.

If he was still able to call himself one of his own kin... 

Arriving in Palebank Village in a flurry of magic was like being cast onto a different planet. With the Floket Alps towering above them and the Crystalsands Tundra at their backs and the arctic ocean waters of the Frigid Depths before them the cold was all around. 

With that first, frozen breath of air something _**deep**_ within Brunnera snapped into place. Like a long broken bone finally jostled into the right place to start healing.

The frosted air had flooded his lungs, threading its way through his bones and muscles and blood and coiled itself in the very core of his soul. Familiar. Comforting. Raw. 

This was _**home**_.

Not this place. Palebank Village. But somewhere in these lands was the place of his birth. The graves of his family. 

The Golden Shrine. 

He'd stood staring at the distant mountain tops in snow nearly to his knees lost to the conversation of the Nein and DeRogna around him. The very peaks of some of the mountains disappeared out of sight into thick roiling clouds and snow storms.

Only Jester's gentle tug on his hand brought him back enough to get the fighter moving again, but it was a stumbling uncoordinated walk as he tried constantly to turn and keep the Floket Alps mountain range in sight. 

The desire to immediately desert DeRogna and her expedition to Eiselcross was so thick Brunnera nearly choked on it. The fighter was certain that if he asked, tried to tell the Nein what he felt, the instinctive pull to turn inland and start searching the slopes and climb ever higher they would come. It roiled and twisted in his gut, he wanted so badly to go.

But this was important. Aeor was important. They _wanted_ to go, even Brunnera himself despite their unfortunate company. It was important for more than just what it was.

They needed to find Molly... 

He'd paced anxiously all that first night. Wrestling with his thoughts and instincts and decisions. Stalking stressed circles in the Salon of Caleb’s Nein Sided Tower; only pausing with a subdued Yasha and sleepy Beau had come down and with their careful way had gotten him to speak. He hadn't been able to muster speech but a cascade of jumbled Nein Sign, almost rambling that left him more exhausted than just the pacing and lack of sleep had. 

He'd never wanted to go searching before. He'd been afraid of what he'd find or wouldn't find. It had kind of been a relief that he'd had no compass to truly search by. Now there was a pull as sure as north itself. He _needed_ to know... and if he could find the Golden Shrine... if it was real... if he could find the cave with the remains of a young White Dragon and his own grandfather... the frozen slope when his tribe had fallen to the slavers and he was stolen away... where his mother and sister had been slain...

Brunnera knew he couldn't leave... couldn't strike out on his own to go searching. He might survive it alone but would he want to go alone was entiry a different matter. It certainly wasn't wise. Yasha even muttered something softly that rang with a deeper truth. 

He wouldn't want to go on such a venture without Verin.

And there was a much more bitter, ugly truth that went unsaid among the Nein. A looming responsibility that Brunnera had already allotted himself and wouldn't allow any of the rest of them to shoulder. 

He had never known Mollymauk. He'd never even been to his grave site before the other night as Caduceus had and had never seen the magnificent coat in any other state other than a muddy, soaked mess bundled up into a pack for safe keeping. 

The firbolg fighter knew the creedos and every story of him by heart. Knew what he looked like from Jester’s drawings. But he hadn't _known_ Molly. 

More than anything Brunnera hoped that would give him a distance to have better insight and prespective on Mollymauk. Determine if he was who they had known or if he was another and if that other was someone... something... that could not be considered a neutral party if not an ally or friend... 

If the tiefling they sought now wasn't Mollymauk... if for some horrible reason he'd come back _wrong_... come back **other** as some entity of this Eyes of Nine living city from the Astral Plane... Brunnera would spare the rest of his family the pain and guilt of dealing with him. Brunnera would put him down if need be. 

He hoped that's not what came to pass. He hoped for something far kinder that would chase away the haunted look that was starting to pool in the eyes of his family members. In Yasha, Beau, Caleb and the others.

They had to find him first. They had to keep that mission close their vests. Brunnera sent more than one quiet plea to the Moonweaver for her help. He only hoped she wasn't to scorned by Artagan's actions to shun them. Or that her love for Mollymauk outweighed the results of Travelercon and that Brunnera's own lack of belief was not seen as an anathema.

They had time to plan. A week before their ship to Eiselcross left. A week to hone how to keep their secret fron DeRogna and carefully investigate throughout Palebank Village if Mollymauk and the Tomb Takers had been there. 

A week for Brunnera to carefully settle his instincts driving him to go into the mountains. Though he quietly dropped a fair amount of coin hoarding maps of every part of the Greying Wildlands that he could find, folding and rolling them up into his bag of holding for later.

In that week something happened to Brunnera he'd never thought would and only reaffirmed his conviction that this was his homeland. 

His snowfur grew in. 

His reddish brown bay fur had always been roaned with white but in a matter of days the white spread as his fur grew longer and thicker; promted into growth by the icy temperatures of the far north and even colder nights. In a matter of days he tucked away his outter winter wear unneeded and rapidly got used to members of the Nein burying their hands or faces into his plush and fluffed out coat for a quick warm up. Even the blue of his hair and tail plume paled as it grew out until it was the color of sea ice. 

Jester was absolutely giddy and sketched his portrait nearly everyday as more and more of Brunnera's dense, muscled frame disappeared under the indomitable fluff of his winter snowfur coat. He'd very quickly become a favorite pillow of the Nein. Jester and Veth and even Caleb often busied themselves braiding his hair and fur into chaotic designs as the party sat and discussed plans and decisions. Warm, woolly, soft. Caleb even changed Frumpkin's form into a long hair cat that copied Brunnera's, the fighter was smugly flattered by the unsaid compliment.

A few of the Palebank villagers casually called him a snowy owlbear in passing; of which Jester and Caduceus swiftly adopted in a gentle tease and seeded a desire in the firbolg fighter to actually see such a creature.

By the time they were making ready to board the ship to cross the Frigid Depths to Eiselcross Brunnera's coat was crystalline white as fresh fallen snow and he almost looked awkward in the way it fluffed out from under his clothes. 

Even the ugliness of the heavy, black metal collar disappeared into the pale abyss the mane of hair his neck had become. Brunnera had more than once rolled in the fresh snow to see the results and like snowy owlbears and polar bears the flakes didn't melts as they clung to the tips of his fur and edges of his eye lashes and ears. 

It was a comforting thought in all the turmoil and the roaring unknown in front of them that Brunnera's mother and ancestors before them had left him some small legacy to, literally, warm him at night.

**Author's Note:**

> MAN WHAT THE HECK IT MATT MERCER DOING TO US YOU GUYS
> 
> So definitely some hinted spoilers here and a hint of what Brunnera thinks about his place in the whole thing will be. Of course I had to add in the distraction of actually being someplace that is/close to his homeland for the first time in his life and changes it causes in him. Which means turning into a giant, white fluffball. 
> 
> Its essentially the same mechanic that Snowshoe Hares and Arctic Fox go through from summer to winter and back again. He's a giant, poofy snowball now. 
> 
> Brun did buy a winter coat, which is very much in the style of an old school WWII bomber/flight jacket cause those are so cool, but he mostly won't need it because of cold resistance/immunity.
> 
> And yes my god Snowy Owlbears exist THANK YOU CHRIS PERKINS, they showed up in Icewind Dale but if you think for one second I'm not gonna use them you're out of your mind. 
> 
> I love arctic-snowy-alpine-mountainous settings for stories so it was a plan of mine for the Nein to make it to Eiselcross eventually just under much different circumstances. 
> 
> _cough_ WithTheThelyssBrothersAndInVurmas _coughCough_
> 
> Thank you for reading! I hope you all enjoyed!!


End file.
